


Wisp of a Dream

by JessicaDoom



Series: to love so fiercely [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday Sex, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-06-06
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaDoom/pseuds/JessicaDoom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birthdays always carried a somber tone for Draco. But Harry wants to change that. (A small oneshot in honor of Draco Malfoy's birthday.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisp of a Dream

Long ago...

_"Father, I have written a list!"_

birthdays lost their meaning.

_"I do not have time for this, Draco."_

He'd only been five-years-old.

_"But, Father, my birthday is in one week! You have to have a list! You have to know what I want for my birthday!"_

_"Your nanny will take you to town. You may buy whatever you wish for your birthday."_

_"But, Father-"_

_"Go up to your room!"_

And all Draco had wanted was a little recognition. Well, that and a child's broom. He was finally old enough for one. It was the number one, boldest, largest item on his list.

What he wanted more than anything was for his father to buy it for him. To wrap it and hand it to him after he'd blown the candles out on his Golden Snitch cake. To allow him to tear off the paper and be able to exclaim with joy over his parents adoration.

It was all he wanted for his fifth birthday.

_Draco dropped the list at Lucius' feet, eyes glistening. He quickly turned around to hide the tears, fearing his father's wrath at the sight of them. "Yes, Father...," he whispered softly and allowed his little legs to carry him to the stairs. His shoulders were slumped pathetically as he climbed, but Lucius never looked back at him._

_The tears the boy had saved meant nothing to Lucius. He left the morning of his son's fifth birthday, saying he had a meeting to attend. Important Ministry business. Draco had hoped with everything he had that it was a lie. Just a story to throw him off the scent. He refused to let his nanny take him to town. Refused to allow her to buy his presents._

_"Father is getting them. When he comes back, he'll have my presents. Silly Nan, don't you know anything?"_

_He waited until the sun had set, sitting on the bottom of the staircase and staring at the front door. Through the night, his attention had waned. He had slowly abandoned his Quidditch figures in favor of focusing everything on the door. Any minute his father would walk through with his presents. Only then would he go with his mother and have some cake._

_Lucius never showed._

_Whatever business he had been on, apparently took him on an overnight trip. Draco had ended up falling asleep on the step, curled tight around his Seeker figure. He clung to it desperately, the lump in his throat aching even in slumber._

_The next day his birthday was never spoken of. When Lucius had returned, he said not a word to his son. He merely walked past his sleeping form and up to his room. He had no presents and uttered not a single apology. Draco was expected to forget anything had ever happened. He wasn't allowed the luxury of eating a slice of cake or a second chance to go buy his own things. June sixth was just another day. But it was one that stuck with him the rest of his life._

_He would never forget the feeling of abandonment._

"Draco, the teapot is ready."

It was not the screeching of the pot that awoke Draco from his memories. The sound of Harry's voice and presence was what shook him. He numbly reached for the pot, shifting it off the fire to cease the noise. "I know." His actions were mechanical when he poured the hot water over his tea leaves. He was absently staring out the window at nothing corporeal; only remembrances.

Harry crossed the kitchen, a frown on his lips when he kissed his lover's cheek. "Happy birthday," he said quietly, though he knew Draco did not want to celebrate. He hadn't wanted a cake, a party, or any gifts. Just a normal day. But Harry found it hard not to wish him that at least. It was his birthday, after all.

He would only turn forty once in his lifetime.

Draco grunted his reply, then pulled away and went about fixing himself breakfast. He was silent and slightly dangerous. As Harry watched, he was very aware that Draco was sticking to this no celebrating thing.

This was the first year they had been together that Harry even had a chance to share Draco's birthday. And in just over a month, they would be observing his as well. For Harry, it was a bit of a milestone in their relationship.

He had never expected Draco to be so against even the thought.

A dark-feathered owl flew in through the kitchen window, dropping two envelopes at Draco's seat. He looked over at them with little curiosity before pushing them away.

"Draco... They're just cards, you know. Or letters. You can read them, at least." Gently, Harry attempted to push them back towards his lover. But Draco wouldn't have it. He put his hand up, creating a miniature wall between himself and the despicable envelopes. Resignedly, Harry sighed and took them back. He flipped the top one over, slicing through the wax seal with his finger. "Your son says that he hopes you're not just sitting at home stewing about yet another year being added to your life." His emerald eyes flicked up, attempted to catch the silver ones beside him. Draco however kept them permanently fixed upon his eggs while shoveling them into his mouth.

Harry looked back down at the letter, a surprised line creasing his forehead. After the first line, the address shifted. He was now reading a letter to himself. It seemed even young Scorpius knew not to mess with Draco's birthday. He warned Harry that his father might be moody. He would be cold and refuse almost everything. It would almost be like he was a ghost, the way he walked about the house.

His warning was also followed by a small explanation. When he was young, Draco had told Scorpius the story of his fifth birthday. Allowed him in to that personal memory for just that day, so he might understand why his father didn't want his homemade, heartfelt gift.

It explained so much, that story.

"Oh..."

Draco looked up towards Harry for the first time, reading his face like an open book. "What?" he asked cautiously, afraid that a bit of his soul might have been exposed.

"Nothing, nothing. Um...Scorpius just says he's worried he may not pass his Potions exam." Harry quickly folded the letter and tucked it into his pocket. "But that's nonsense. He's bright. And I have to imagine he inherited some of his father's flair for Potions." He let loose a brilliant smile, nothing but sincere in what he said.

For an instant, it seemed as if Draco didn't believe Harry. His eyes narrowed as he stared at him, calculating everything from his expression to his tone to the way he held the second envelope. "Right...," he said after a long minute and went back to his breakfast.

To put the revealed truth out of his mind, Harry opened the second letter. This one was a simple card bearing love from Draco's mother. Narcissa was sincere but brief in her well-wishing. There wasn't but ten words upon the plain, ordinary card. Harry set it aside with a look of distaste before standing. "And your mother apparently hopes your birthday is magical. Wonderful."

Draco didn't even bat an eyelash. He pulled the morning paper another owl had dropped off towards him and begun to read the day's headlines. It was as if Harry wasn't even there. He was off in his own word.

Harry's lips flattened into a line that would have made Minerva McGonagall jealous. He watched his lover for a few seconds, moving between many emotions. Sadness, anger, disgust, and finally pity. He felt bad for the little boy that was still trapped inside Draco's mind, hoping for a present from his beloved father.

"I think I might go out for a bit. Pick up groceries and whatnot. You'll be fine here by yourself, right?" Harry asked nonchalantly, feeling his pocket to ensure he had his wallet. All he received in response was a dull nod of Draco's blonde head. It was all he needed to escape in a hurry.

The memory Scorpius had relayed to him had got him thinking. He knew Draco didn't want anything. He didn't want any sort of sentiment on his birthday, as sad as that was. But Harry knew he couldn't allow that to fly. He knew he had to do something, as the man who loved him. And the letter in his front pocket had given him just the right idea of what to do.

Harry was gone for most of the day. He was busy, going from place-to-place, searching for just what he needed. He wanted everything to be perfect for when he returned. Otherwise, he told himself he might as well not bother going back at all. Which was why it was nearly dark by the time he arrived home.

No lights were on in the house. Harry found the door unlocked as he left it, giving a hint that Draco was still home. He snuck in quietly, setting his packages and bags by the door before tip-toeing towards the sitting room. When he stuck his head gently around the corner, he found Draco sitting in his favorite armchair, reclined back and staring up at the wall. His eyes slowly roved over to meet Harry's, silver pools filled with an unmatched hate he could not even explain to himself. "You're back."

"Yeah...I..." Harry took a step into the room, shoving his hands into his pockets. He felt a bit like a scolded child. He had been gone all day. He had left his lover alone on his birthday, all day. What kind of person did that?

He sorely hoped what he'd brought back would more than make up for it.

"Oh, save it," Draco snapped, putting the chair back into its normal position. He stood, anger making his limbs rigid as he walked towards Harry with force and determination. "I don't need your goddamn excuses. Get out of my way; I'd like to fix myself some dinner. You may begin making your bed on my couch." Everything about Draco was hostile, but beneath that exterior was a wounded animal. He was only lashing out because he was hurt.

A smile slipped into place upon Harry's lips as he took a step back. He didn't move out of Draco's way, however. Instead, he stuck his arm out across the doorway and shrugged. "No."

"Excuse me?" Draco seethed, steps halted and arms crossing over his chest.

"I've brought dinner home with me." The statement was simple but it had the effect Harry desired. It threw Draco off his guard. A flicker of confusion slid into place over the blonde's face. "Wait here."

There was no sound of protest or footsteps as Harry went back to the door. He smiled happily to himself, grabbing the takeout bags as well as his other parcels. Juggling these, he went back to the living room and stepped past Draco to the coffee table. It took his a moment to get everything laid out. But once he was done, there was a lazy-day feast fit for a king. His king.

"Come eat."

A little bit of shock still lingering in his features, Draco sank to his knees before the table. He pulled a plate ladled with all sorts of Asian dishes towards him and couldn't help but to pull in a satisfied breath of its scent. "Thank you," he mumbled, but quietly so as to keep his pride.

Harry nodded, taking a bite of an egg roll. "Thought you'd like it. I tried to get your favorites, as well as other things I thought you might like. The woman at the restaurant asked if I was hosting a party. I must have ordered a lot." Harry laughed nervously, glancing down at the floor. At the neatly wrapped package lying by his knees.

"I enjoy...quite a few of these dishes. Especially this one." Draco's fork loomed over the small pile of sesame chicken upon his plate. He almost wore a smile when his eyes met Harry's. They both shared the same memory, a blush appearing upon the darker haired man's cheeks.

Their first, official date had been at a Chinese restaurant. Harry had spilt a bite of sesame chicken on his lap partway through. Though he'd been embarrassed by it, he had tried to laugh it off. And later that night, Draco had been so kind to help him clean it off.

"Are you going to dirty your pants again?" Draco asked coyly, spearing a piece of chicken with his fork. When he pulled it off between his teeth, every motion he made reeked of sexual experience.

Harry swallowed quite hard, shifting where he knelt. "Um..." Again, his eyes caught the package. He sighed softly, finding he couldn't wait anymore. And now was as good a time as ever. He pulled it up off the floor and held the long, thin gift out towards his lover. "Open it."

In an instant, Draco's gaze darkened. He set his fork down with a cool air, glaring at the parcel. "No," he said with weight and rolled back onto his heels. He was standing in no time, ready to walk out of the room.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, don't you dare walk away from me." Harry followed the other, grabbing his hand to halt his progress. He didn't want his day away to have been wasted. He wouldn't give up that easily. "Open your gift. Please." The command was slightly softened with that last pleading word, but it still spoke of a deep-seated resolve.

As Draco turned sharply on his heel, he caught Harry's look and slowly crumpled before him. His resignation fell. He reached out for the present, ashamed of himself completely and fearful of what may lie within. "What is it?" he asked quietly.

"Just open it."

His hand shook as he slipped a finger underneath the wrapping. He swallowed hard, nearly shutting his eyes when he pulled the silver paper back. And confusion completely settled in the moment he got a glimpse of what was underneath. "What...?" To confirm his suspicions, he tore the rest of the wrapping off, eyes wide. "You have got to be joking..."

Harry laughed heartily, stepping forward to press a loving kiss to Draco's unbelieving lips. "I'm assuming this is the right one?"

Slowly, Draco pulled the paper away and held the tiny toy broom up to the light. He inspected every inch of it in silence, grey eyes becoming quivering lakes. It was the exact one. The one he'd wanted as a child. The one he'd lusted over in catalogues and store fronts when he was four-years-old.

A disbelieving snort of a chuckle escaped him and he couldn't help but to reach out and shove Harry lightly. "You are such an idiot, Potter."

"But you love me." Harry stepped up behind his lover, arms around his waist protectively. He watched the happy tears roll down Draco's cheeks and felt absolute satisfaction. He had achieved exactly what he'd hoped. He had reconciled for a horrid memory. "There is a cake out in the kitchen as well. A Golden Snitch cake to go with your...wonderful, vintage toy."

To break Draco Malfoy was a difficult thing. To get underneath his hard shell to the soft child he still was underneath took a great deal of work. Somehow, in not even the span of a year, Harry Potter had managed this task. He had taken the rough and tough Pureblood and molded him into some idol with which he could lavish all of his affections upon. All of this showed in Draco's grateful look as he turned in his lover's arms. The kiss they shared was passionate, shining with everything true love was supposed to be.

They were soul mates. The trouble Harry had taken to research and track down this very toy was testimony to that very fact.

They broke apart long enough for Draco to shift his arms around the other man's neck. And before the blonde's lips crushed his once again, Harry asked quietly, "Do I still have to sleep out on the couch?"

Draco smacked Harry upon the ass, eyes narrowed with a sultry smirk. "Shut up."

For the rest of his life, birthdays would have a different meaning for Draco. He would always remember his fifth birthday, but above that now his fortieth came first. It would always be about love and family. And Harry Potter was at the center of it all.


End file.
